It Takes Less to Smile
by Cheetah Goddess
Summary: Italy is determined to make Germany smile, no matter if he likes it or not.


"Why doesn't Germany smile more?"

There it was again. A silly question and two bright amber eyes focused on him from across the desk, the man nearly sprawled across his papers as he looked up at the German, the picture of impatient expectancy.

"…smile more?" Germany continued flipping through the documents without missing a beat, used to the Italian's antics.

When the blond didn't probe further, the Italian took it upon himself to walk around the desk and hop up to sit on the edge, still staring at the blond with a pout. "Ve, si! Germany is always frowning! Doesn't it hurt your face to be frowning all the time?" Italy titled his head, looking genuinely concerned.

He could feel the telltale twitch of brows on his forehead, a scowl beginning to creep across his face. "No, my face does _not_ hurt. And get down from there, it isn't a chair."

"But Germany, you should smile more! Smiling makes you happy!" The Italian threw out his arms to emphasize his statement (and almost smacked the German across the face as a consequence), a big smile of his own brightening his features. "And didn't you know? It takes a lot less work to smile than it does to frown! That's what big brother Spain told me!"

Germany stacked the pile of documents and set them aside, resisting a sigh. "I'm going to have more work if you keep pestering me. And _get off the desk._"

"Come on, Germany, smile!" The Italian had begun to kick his heels back and forth, banging them against Germany's desk. "You know how to smile, don't you?"

"I know how to smile_—_"

"Here, I'll teach you!" Italy pointed to his mouth, corners of his lips upturning in a toothy grin. "See? It's easy!"

"I've told you, I can _smile_—"

"Now you try!"

Suddenly Germany felt warm hands all over his face as the Italian placed his palms on pale cheeks, manually tugging at the corners of the German's mouth with his thumbs. "See? A smile! Germany's doing it!"

It took all of the Geman's self control to simply put his hands on the other man's wrists and not around his neck, pulling the thumbs away from his face. "Italy. I know how to smile."

"Ve…but why don't you?" Another curious look of expectance was cast at the German, a pout falling across a once bright face as the Italian's legs stopped kicking against the desk.

"Because I…don't have the time." He finished the thought lamely, trying to avoid meeting the Italian's eyes. He didn't really have an answer to why he didn't smile more. There was certainly no _reason_ he could see to smile given his current affairs. Too much work had to be done; battles to be planned and fought, papers to sign, leaders to meet. What did he have to smile for? He had much more reason to cry than he would ever have to smile.

"You don't have to make time to smile! You can smile anytime!" If to prove his statement, another wide smile stretched across Italy's face, challenging the scowl carved into the German's. "I'm sure Germany would feel much, much better if he just smiled!"

If anything, the prospect of smiling only gave the German a much unwanted headache. "I don't think that would help."

"Come on, Germany! Just try it!"

"…I have work to do, so why don't you go and make lunch?" He pulled the Italian from the desk and turned him around, giving him a small shove toward the door.

The Italian stumbled forward, shooting a pout back at the man. "Germany works too much!"

"I would get more work down without you pestering me. Go."

"Okay…I'll make pasta! Delicious pasta, ve~"

It amazed Germany how his ally could change emotions so quickly, the man skipping out of the room with another wide grin and humming a cheerful tune. The blond ran a hand through his hair, letting out the sigh that had been building up.

Would it really make anything better if he smiled? He closed his eyes, almost trying to imagine it. If Italy was any indicator, it certainly seemed much easier to handle everything in life with a smile. Germany shook his head, quickly clearing his mind of such thoughts; the Italian couldn't even tie his shoes without someone to help. If smiling meant he would turn into _that_, he was content with his affairs as they were.

Although that did not prevent another sigh from escaping him as he picked up his paperwork once again.

* * *

"Germany, Germany! Lunch is ready! Let's eat!"

A plate was shoved under his nose as soon as Germany stepped into the kitchen, a pair of bright eyes wide and staring at him from over the pasta.

"Lunch is ready!"

"I-I…I can see that." The German steeled his insides, the Italian's bubbly nature and boundless energy beginning to wear him down as it often did. He rubbed his aching neck, walking past the brunet to the kitchen table and sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Of course the brunet followed; Italy skipped after him, setting the plate on the table in front of Germany. "Eat up, ve! It's spaghetti with wurst~ I made it just for you!"

"A-ah…Danke." A light heat colored his cheeks at the Italian's enthusiasm; Germany cleared his throat, picking up the fork Italy placed in front of him and began to eat.

"…so, so?"

"Mm?" The German looked up, noticing the Italian's stare.

Italy smile grew wider, leaning in closer to the blond, enthusiasm almost radiating off him. "Well? Does Germany like it? Do you, ve?"

Germany suddenly found his tongue a bit tied; he took a sip of his beer (also courtesy of the Italian), giving him a chance to think. "Ah…yes. I do like it."

"Really? Really you do? Yahoo~! Does Germany think it's delicious?"

"Yes, it is delicious, thank you." He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully.

But the German soon looked up again, faced with a pouty Italian. "W…what?"

"Ve, it didn't work at a~all! I even put wurst in it and everything!"

"What are you talking about, Italy?" He put his fork down, eye brows raised as his mind whirled; what could have the Italian possibly put in his food? Nothing dangerous, he hoped.

Italy looked completely crushed; he flopped back into his chair, crossing his arms and attempted a scowl (but there was no such thing with the Italian; any attempts at scowling only came out as childish pouts). "Germany didn't even smile at all!"

_Oh_. That's what the stares had been for.

The Italian continued, kicking his legs back and forth and scuffing them against the floor.  
"And I put all of Germany's favorite things in it! But you didn't smile! I thought for sure Germany would smile, food always makes me smile!"

Germany resisted another sigh, trying to think of a way to calm the brunet down. "Italy, the food was delicious, but that—"

"Then why didn't Germany smile?"

He tried to hold his ground as the brunet leaned closer, coughing to clear his throat. "B-Because, I…it is delicious, but I'm not going to smile about food!" He picked up his fork again, determined to let this ridiculous conversation end at that. Arguing with his ally about _smiling_, of all things?

"Why not smile about good food? Doesn't good food make you happy?" The Italian's eyebrows furrowed, pout almost demanding an explanation.

"Happy?" His eyebrows shot up, trying to comprehend what Italy was saying. Food was food, no matter if it tasted good or not. Why should something like that make him happy?

Italy nodded, and in a blink of an eye his pout had turned into a smile. "Uh-huh, happy! When the food is good, it makes you feel good all over! And that makes you happy, and when you're happy you smile!"

Germany felt if he had been sideswiped. His face returned to its normal scowl, crossing his arms. "I'm not going to smile over food, that's ridiculous—"

The Italian was no longer listening to him; he jumped to his feet, skipping off. "Ve~ Germany is silly! You should just smile!"

The blond looked back down at his unfinished lunch, almost apprehensive to finish eating the food.

* * *

Germany was aggravated by this point; after finishing lunch, he couldn't seem to focus on his paperwork, thoughts going back to the completely _ridiculous _things the Italian had been saying. Even if such thoughts seemed irrational, he…he couldn't concentrate! Was he missing something? Was "happiness" the normal response to good food? What did the Italian mean by calling him silly? Italy was obviously the one being unreasonable!

He left his office annoyed and confused, piles of unfinished paperwork taunting him as he headed outside. It was time for training, and maybe a bit of fresh air would help him clear his mind of those persistent thoughts.

The German had no such luck; he stood, staring at his watch and even more irritated than before. It had been over an hour, an _hour_ since he had told his Italian ally to meet him for training, yet he hadn't seen a single brunet hair of the man since he had began his wait. Running around the field and stretching had done nothing to calm his nerves; if anything, it only made his irritation worse that the Italian wasn't training like he should be.

"Germany, Germany~!"

The cheerful voice made his eyebrow twitch; he spun on his heel, ready to lecture the man on being a soldier for the _umpteenth_ time. "Italy! You are late!"

Even the booming voice didn't make the Italian's smile waver; he jogged up to the blond, cradling something in his arms. "Eh heh heh, mi dispiace~ But look what I found, Germany!" He held out the bundle in his hands, a small kitten mewing out a small hello to the German.

The blond's expression didn't even waver; he continued to scowl, arms crossed over his chest and towering over the smaller man. "That doesn't explain why you are late for training! I told you to meet me in the field over an hour ago!"

"Ve…" A frown flickered over Italy's face for a split second before holding the small animal up higher, closer to the German's face. "But, look! Isn't it cute, Germany?"

He scowled at the small and squirming thing in Italy's hands. "It is only a cat."

"Nuh-uh, Germany, it's a _kitten_—"

"_Italy!_" _That_ got the Italian's attention. He yelped, hugging the kitten to his chest. "We are supposed to be _training_! We are in the middle of a _war_!" Germany pointed out into the field. "Now, put the kitten _back_ where you found it, and report back for training! We have _work_ to do!"

"B-but, Germany—"

"_Now_, Italy!"

Italy physically drooped, looking up at the German like a kicked puppy before turning around. "Ve…I just wanted to make Germany smile…"

The blond tapped his foot, patience growing thin. "_Go_, Italy."

"…at least _you're_ cute, kitten…"

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh.

* * *

He should've expected it, with the turn of events the day had taken.

There was the Italian again, hands full of lilies, scattering pollen all over his desk.

"…what are you doing now, Italy?" He was almost afraid to ask, already worn down from the day.

"Ve, they're for you, Germany!"

A traitorous blush crept across his cheeks but he managed to keep his scowl, staring at the flowers. "…_why?_"

"To make you smile~"

The flowers were having the complete opposite effect on the blond. He sighed, taking the flowers from Italy's hands. "…thank you for trying, but I'm not going to smile because of flowers." At this point, he didn't think _anything_ was going to make him smile again.

"But the pretty girls smile when I give them flowers—"

"Italy." Germany's voice was turning desperate, clutching his last shred of sanity. "Thank you for the effort but I…don't feel like smiling. I just want to get my work done."

"So…Germany doesn't feel like smiling?" Italy frowned, looking a bit remorseful.

"No. I do not feeling like smiling."

"…at all?"

Germany sighed again, trying to keep himself from yelling at the man. "Not at all."

"Ve…o-okay, Germany…sorry."

He watched Italy slink out of the room, almost feeling regretful for his words. Was it…really that easy to smile? Germany turned to the window and looked at his reflection, scowl etched into his face.

An attempt to crack a grin made him want to blanch; the expression didn't fit him in the least. Germany immediately turned back to his paperwork, flushing.

Why did it…even matter? What drove Italy to want him to smile so much?

The Italian's disappointed expression flashed in his thoughts. He was…Italy was the one who was supposed to smile, not him. Why would he make himself so upset just to get someone else to smile? And _him_, of all people? He didn't understand it, a headache throbbing painfully against his skull.

Through all his distress as he struggled to organize his emotions, a thought crossed his mind.

If…if he could just smile to get the Italian to smile, he would.

Germany shook his head, the realization only intensifying his confusion.

But…he wanted the Italian…he wanted Italy to smile. He didn't like the frown the man had worn out of the room. It didn't suit him. He…wanted to make Italy smile.

He looked back down at his paperwork. However, even with this new perspective in his hands, didn't mean he could make himself smile. Germany sighed, fighting to get his focus back on more important matters.

* * *

This…this was the last straw. Germany sat with his back to the office door, face buried in his hands and wishing he could just crawl into the deepest hole he could find to sort out these…_feelings_.

"G-Germany? Germany, are you okay? C-come out, please!"

He could barely register the other's distressed voice, door vibrating with every frantic knock the Italian pounded against it. The German didn't respond however, only letting his face sink farther in his hands, the heat from his cheeks almost scorching him.

"Germany, please, say something! I-I'm sorry, I just though…m-maybe since Germany didn't smile at the flowers, you would smile at a pretty girl! B-but I couldn't find any girls around, and Hungary gave me this dress a while ago, so I thought maybe—"

He banged his head against the back of the door, just willing the day to _end_.

"G-Germany? Ve, what's going on? Germany~!"

* * *

Germany hadn't been in bed for five minutes before he felt the familiar bounce of the mattress, the Italian sneaking into bed with him. He didn't make a sound, still flustered from earlier.

"…Germany?"

His hopes of just falling to sleep without a word were instantly dashed. "Italy, I've told you many times, stop sneaking into my bed."

"Ve…I'm sorry, Germany."

The blond had a feeling the apology wasn't for sliding into the bed.

"I…just wanted to make you smile, but I think I made it worse…"

Germany frowned at the tone of Italy's voice, turning around to face him. "Why are you sorry for that?"

Italy fidgeted, not meeting the German's eyes. "W-well…I just wanted to make Germany happy! Y-you…always seem so upset, and I thought if I could make you smile, then you would be happy!" The smaller man closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh. "Ve…but I didn't make Germany happy at all!"

He wanted Italy to smile.

"So…I just wanted to tell Germany I'm sorry! I won't try to make him smile again if he doesn't want to…eh?"

Germany reached out, placing his hand on Italy's head. "Y-you…" The blond shook his head, forcing himself to continue before he could stop himself. "…I was happy Italy. Just because I don't…s-smile, doesn't mean it didn't make me…happy. Okay?" He gave Italy's hair a small tousle. "So…thank you."

The brown eyes staring back at him were wide. "Germany can do it!"

Germany withdrew his hand quickly, startled. "W-what?"

Italy sat up, flinging himself across Germany's chest. "Germany can smile! Germany's doing it!"

The blond immediately covered his mouth as if he had eaten something bad, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. "W-wait, what?"

Italy grabbed the other's wrist, pulling the German's hands away from his mouth with a giggle. "Germany's smiling! Germany's smiling! Ve, Germany looks nice when he smiles!" A huge smile had overtaken the Italian's own face, almost shinning with happiness.

"Y-you are being…unreasonable, Italy!" He tried to push the Italian from his chest, but could still feel the smile lingering on his lips.

The Italian eventually let go of Germany's wrist, flopping back onto the bed and clinging to the man's arm. "Germany should smile more!"

He could feel the brunet's grin pressed against his shoulder; Germany turned back over, embarrassed. "J-Just…go to sleep, Italy!"

"Eh heh heh, okay~" Italy let out a yawn, snuggling into Germany's back. "Buona notte~"

The German grunted out a response, closing his eyes against his blush. Despite the embarrassment, the smile resurfaced onto Germany's lips, keeping him company as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
